Getting there- A Wammy's House Story
by I'veGotManyNames
Summary: Each and every Wammy's kid has a story. A reason to be there, at Wammy's House for Exceptionally Gifted Children. Not all of them will be heard, and the few that will, won't be heard in full, but they all deserve a thousand words dedicated to the reasons that brought them to Wammy's House. CHAPTER 4- BB up now.
1. Chapter 1: Mello

**1-Mello**

Mihael Keehl was only four years old when his father died. His mother never told him why, but young Mihael wasn't a genius for nothing. He had figured out that his father was in the mafia by the time he turned three and in light of that his mother's hesitance to tell him the reason of his father's death could mean only one thing.

At the age of four Mihael could speak Russian, German and English fluently, he could do math that was normally taught in the last three years of schooling and his knowledge on Science was extraordinary. His mother couldn't have been prouder.

And then one day in January of the year after his father's death she took him aside.

"Mihael," she said. "Come over here, душа́ моя́!"

Mihael went over to his mother, who motioned for him to sit down opposite of her.

"Was ist los, Mama?" The boy looked at his mother questioningly. She smiled at him and Mihael noticed that she seemed different, happier, almost glowing.

"I'm pregnant, Liebling." And then she laughed joyfully. Mihael was worried for a moment, what if Mama would love him less than his little sibling? What if she would forget about him? But he shook himself. Mama loved him very much and he hadn't seen her this happy since his father died almost two months ago. He wouldn't be selfish now.

"Do you know if it is a boy or a girl yet?" The boy looked at her with wide eyes.

The woman shook her head. "Nein, душа́ моя́."

Mihael nodded understandingly and went back to his book.

Three months later Mama took her son aside again. This time the news weren't quite as happy.

"Mihael," the woman said.

"Was ist los, Mama?" Mihael could tell that this was something entirely different from last time's happy news.

"Liebling, there is something I feel you should know." She took a deep breath and her eyes watered as she saw her son waiting expectantly. "The doctors tell me that I might not survive giving birth to the little one, some even advised me to…" she paused, altering the sentence slightly"…not to take that risk. But I can't do that. You understand that Mihael, don't you? I can't kill my baby."

Mihael stared at his Mama, his eyes wide in fear and shock.

That day they fought for the first time since Dimitri Keehl died. And Mihael screamed and raged, he pleaded with his Mama, he even cried, but it was no use. Natasha Keehl had made her decision and no one would change her mind, not even her precious Mihael.

Eventually it became apparent that the risk would be even higher than anticipated, but the woman wouldn't change her mind.

And in June 1994 Mihael spent seven hours in the waiting room of the hospital. In June 1994 his little sister was born. In June 1994 Natasha Anastasia Keehl died.

The doctors told Mihael that she had died holding his little sister in her arms and with a smile on her face. They told him that she had whispered something to the girl, presumably a name, but no one had heard. They also told him that they had given the girl a name, but he didn't listen to them. He didn't want to know. To him she was the little one, she was his Schwesterchen. And nothing else.

Mihael honored his Mama's wish and didn't blame his Schwesterchen.

Child service checked every single one of their relatives, but all of them were deemed unfit to take care of the two. Then they tried to find someone who would adopt the now orphaned siblings, but no one would do that. In the end they were put up for adoption separately. Mihael's Schwesterchen was adopted within three weeks, but Mihael himself was given to an orphanage.

The orphanage's name was St Anne's. The caretakers were nice and the other orphans were… alright, but Mihael found that he couldn't relate to them. Or maybe it was the other way around. He spent three months at the orphanage after his Schwesterchen was adopted and in late November a man came to take him to another orphanage.

His name was Mr Ruvie and he was British, Mihael could tell by his accent. His hair was starting to grey, his eyes looked silver, and his whole appearance had something of a lonely wolf.

Mr Ruvie explained to him that his new orphanage specialized in brilliant children, genii, or as he said "the exceptionally gifted".

He was given a new name. A strange name. Mello.

But he wasn't the only one with a strange name there. The boy that had been told to show him around was called Puma, and there was this odd little boy that went by Near. Mihael thought he looked like a sheep. And a year earlier, even half a year earlier he wouldn't have said that out loud, but by then he had lost his Mama and his Schwesterchen and just about everything else he had ever held dear and he said it. Loudly.

Mihael, or rather Mello, made a reputation for himself quickly. He wasn't the shy new kid. He was loud, he was boisterous, and he was brash. He was outspoken, rude and even violent at times.

He had a room to himself, since all the other boys already had a roommate or had expressed a desire to have their own room. Mello would have done the same, but he wasn't old enough yet to have a room for himself. The set age for that was ten and Mello resolved to get his own room as soon as he could.

For two years, no one else arrived at Wammy's House for Exceptionally Gifted Children. Then one bright April morning the boy was there. His hair was red, his eyes were hidden and he was to be Mello's new roommate.

Needless to say, Mello never did ask for his own room.

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_душа́ моя́_- Russian for "My dear"

_Was ist los?-_ German for "What is it?"

_Liebling_- German for "Darling"

_Nein_- German for "No"

_Schwesterchen_- German for "Sister" has a subtext of a younger sister

A few words. This is connected to most of the oneshots I posted on this site (actually all of them apart from _**Welcome home, Moony.**_(obviously) and _**Of Hackers, Chocolate and Reputations**_).

That means that it fits in with the general timeline of those oneshots and that the characters mentioned during them, might get some more screen time here.

Also, if you read another one of my oneshots and there was a Wammy's kid in there that you really liked or thought was interesting, you can request that one for chapter four. Chapters two and three will be Near and Matt, so don't bother asking about them.

I hope I'm making sense right now, because I'm tired, but if you have any questions feel free to ask.

Lastly. I LOVE REVIEWS! So please spare a minute of your time and let me know what you think. I really appreciate it.


	2. Chapter 2: Near

**Disclaimer: I do no own Death Note. But I do own Lily, Lucy, Ethan, Daisy, and Collin.**

**AN: **Alright guys, it is time for the one and only Near and his one-thousand words.

Dedication: This chapter goes to prettyalice12, for being my first reviewer and helping me with chapter 3 :D Big thank you to her!

Enjoy!

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**2-Near**

Fire was a scary thing. Actually it was one of the few things Near feared until his dying day, and he was glad that Mello never found out about that. He would have tortured him to no end.

Near had been afraid of fire for as long as he could remember, or at least for as long as he could remember _clearly_. He had shown signs of extraordinary intelligence very early on and he actually had some memories of his life before _that night_.

_That night._ It was his first clear memory, and a terrifying one at that.

It was quiet outside and dark. The River family was fast asleep. Seven year old twins Lily and Lucy were in their bedroom on the second floor. Five year old Ethan slept in the room to their left and two year old Nate in the room to their right. Across the hall from their children slept Daisy and Collin River.

No one ever found out how the fire started. If it had been intention or an accident that set the house ablaze. Not even Near. But he honestly didn't even try to find out, he was content to bury the memories of that night as deep as he could and never look at them again. To him it didn't matter.

What mattered was that the fire started. And before anyone knew it the house was being consumed by flames. Little Nate woke up and just sat in his bed. He knew that he wouldn't be able to escape the flames. Not without help. His eyes were wide in fear as the smoke entered the room like a dark shadow. He pulled his mother's scarf from the chair by his bed and covered his mouth and noise.

Finally, help arrived in the form of his sister Lily. And as soon as she opened the door, Nate could hear Lucy and Ethan in the room across the hall trying to wake up their parents. Lily picked up her little brother and ran out of the room. Lucy met them in the hallway, pulling Ethan along by the arm.

"It's no use," she told her sister and showed her a small bottle of sleeping pills.

"_No_!" Ethan wailed. "We can't leave them." He tried to run back to their parents, but Lucy grabbed him around the waist.

"We have to get out of here," she was crying.

Lily nodded, "The stairs are blocked."

The twins shared a meaningful look. "The balcony."

Still holding their little brothers, Lily and Lucy made their way to the balcony door in their room. On any other night it would have been cold, but that particular night was warm due to the burning house behind them.

"I'll jump," Lily decided and handed Nate to Lucy. She put a leg over the railing and carefully lowered herself to the ground as much as possible. Then she let go.

Her ankle twisted and made a sickening crack as she reached the ground. Lily winced slightly, but otherwise ignored it.

"Give me Nate, Lu," she shouted. Nate's dark eyes were wide, as his sister put him on the railing. He was shaking violently, but he made no move to resist. He understood what was going to happen, but that didn't mean he wasn't afraid.

"I'll catch you, baby," Lily said. Nate fell straight into his sister's arms. She winced again.

Lily put her brother down next to her and told him to stay put. "Now Ethan," she yelled.

Lucy nodded and turned to her left, but Ethan was gone. Her eyes widened. "He went back inside," she screamed, terrified. Then, without a second thought, she reentered the house.

"No! Lucy!" Lily looked at the place where her sister had stood for a few seconds, before she picked up Nate and ran, despite her throbbing ankle.

Nate had no idea where they were going, but he knew that they were leaving the house behind. He could feel Lily sobbing as she ran, and he knew why. Lucy and Ethan weren't going to come back out. Not alive.

Finally, Lily couldn't run anymore. She fell, Nate still clutched to her chest. Both of them were crying silently. They cried themselves to sleep, about a hundred meters from their burning home.

Lily never woke up. Nate heard the doctors say that she died from smoke inhalation. But he didn't care; they were going to be together. She was going to protect him. She had promised him that night that it would be the two of them against the world. And she had made him promise that he'd make sure the water would win in the end.

A few weeks later, after Nate had undergone more tests than even he could possibly count, a man came to take him to an orphanage. He knew what that was and he knew that he was an orphan.

They gave him a new name and called him Near. To protect him they said. And Nate accepted the protection the new name offered him.

He left Nate behind and became Near. He retreated into his genius. He hid himself away. But most of all he buried his memories of that fateful night as deep as he could.

And even though they are still buried today, there are a few things that Near will always carry with him until his dying day.

He will always be afraid of fire.

He will always hate to make promises.

He will always do his very best to keep the promises he does make.

He will always keep one sentence in his heart.

"_You are the water, Nate. And the fire can't win. Make sure that it doesn't, baby. Make sure that it doesn't."_

It is this sentence that drives him to fight the crimes of the world, because in reality he could care less. And if it weren't for Lily and her last words, her last wish, he would do nothing. Nothing at all.

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Let me know what you think. Also, next up is **Matt. **And I'm now taking requests for chapter five, so guys, please **REVIEW!** and help yourself to some cyber cookies!

*gets out cyber cookies* here you go!

PS: Oh, and HAPPY 23rd BIRTHDAY, MATT! (Even though he's dead *sniff*)


	3. Chapter 3: Matt

**AN: **So yeah, chapter 3. It's Matt everyone! Enjoy!

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**3-Matt**

His cheek burned like someone had pressed a hot iron against it. His eyes filled themselves with tears. His body shook like never before. His head knew that he should hate the man in front of him. His heart couldn't.

His heart still remembered what it was like when the man in front of him wasn't just the angry man that would hit him, scream every insult in the world at him and then tell him to get out and get him some money. His heart still remembered the times when this man was loving, caring, and _his Daddy_.

But Kevin Jeevas wasn't that man anymore, and Mail should really get that simple fact into his head. The father he had adored and that had adored him in turn was gone, taken from him by the pain of losing his wife, Mail's mother, taken from him by the alcohol.

It had been almost three years since Shelly Jeevas died, but Mail still cried himself to sleep every night. Those were the only times he cried. When the man (he just could call him his father, because the man wasn't, wasn't, wasn't) hurt him in every way Mail could think of, he didn't cry. When the kids at school turned up their noses at him, because the man spent all the money on alcohol again and Mail couldn't get any new clothes, he didn't cry. When he sat at his mother's grave, he didn't cry. When the man threw him out (and he did on a regular basis), Mail didn't cry.

But late at night, when he was sure the man was asleep, because he could hear his regular breathing through the paper-thin wall of the tiny apartment, he cried.

But as much as Mail hated being at home, he hated being in school more. No one seemed to understand him. No one apart from the librarian. Her name was Miss G. and Mail adored her. She was nice to him where everyone else wasn't. She smiled at him when everyone else turned away. And most of all she didn't treat him like he couldn't possibly understand her words.

Miss G. saw all the signs of abuse, but oh, how she didn't want to believe it. Mail was such a sweet child, such an intelligent child. And yet, he came to school with bruises on his face and his arms. The woman knew that he understood it was wrong, but Mail never said a word about it unless he was telling her he was just clumsy, fell down the stairs, up the stairs, in the park. He was creative with his excuses she had to give him that. The woman didn't know what to do, so she watched and hoped that Mail would ask for help.

Mail hung his head as he walked home. He could feel Miss G.'s eyes burning holes into his back as she watched him. She always did that, and it annoyed Mail to no end. In a way he was glad she cared, but she was too nosy. She knew, and Mail wasn't sure if he liked that or not. The boy sighed. It was Tuesday, the man would be drunk again. Not that those two facts had anything to do with each other. The man was drunk every day.

Inside the school, behind a window, Miss G. looked at the phone and sighed, hoping she had made the right decision. The woman closed her eyes.

Mail came home with his backpack slung over his shoulder. He had accepted the inevitable

The man was drunk, even more so than usual. But he didn't hit Mail as soon as he came in, he didn't insult him, he didn't make him go on the streets and beg or steel to get money, he didn't throw him out. He just sat and stared at Mail. If the boy hadn't known he was drunk, he would have thought that maybe just maybe his daddy was back. And at the back of the man's, or maybe at the back of his father's?, eyes there was a tiny spark that gave Mail hope again as he met the man's eyes. This tiny spark of caring, loving, adoring.

The stared at each other for a minute or an hour and as the spark grew, so did Mail's hope.

"You have no right to look at me with her eyes," the man said finally. His voice wasn't cruel, it was soft and caring and it killed Mail inside.

"I know," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," the man reached out and patted Mail's head. Then he stood up, and Mail knew what was coming. He didn't resist. He didn't run. He didn't scream. He didn't whimper. He didn't cry. And as the man beat him, and beat him, and beat him, he just lay there.

Mail felt numb.

He felt numb as child services came to take him away later that night.

He felt numb when he saw Miss G. crying silently as she watched him.

He felt numb when the elderly man came to take him away.

He felt numb when they arrived at the orphanage.

He felt numb when they gave him a new name.

He felt numb through it all until a young man came up to him and gave him a pair of goggles. Mail put them on. He had no right to look at anyone with the eyes he had inherited from his mother.

"Thank you," Mail said. The man nodded.

He was brought to his new room that he was to share with a strangely named boy.

He lay on the bed his face to the wall until it turned dark. His roommate ignored him.

That night, Mail cried. And it was the first night since his mother died that someone comforted him. To him it marked a new beginning of a new life, Matt's life. Because Mail died that last night with the man, his father.

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Still taking requests for chapter five. NEXT UP, BB. Also, please R&R and have some cookies.


	4. Chapter 4: Beyond Birthday

**AN:** Here's chapter four! Enjoy! Also thanks to everyone who reviewed :D

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note. Sadly.

**AN2:** If anyone can find the four references to TV shows, books, etc. that are in here that person can **request a oneshot** of their choice (I just won't write anthing explicit, guys)

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**4-Beyond ****Birthday**

The boy turned his eyes to the ground and hunched over the book that was pressed to his chest. He could hear the sneers and felt the glares that they threw at him, but he had grown used to it.

The boy, despite his extraordinarily great intelligence, didn't understand why they hated him. Maybe that was because he had a hard time with emotions. They weren't set in stone; they couldn't be dissected and analyzed piece by piece.

"Uhhh, look it's ickle Brian," a girl said. Tracy Denton. The boy flinched, but turned to glare at her. She had numbers floating over her head, all of them had. His eyes flicked around the hallway, people were pressed up against the walls. Numbers and names, that was all they were to him. But Tracy Danton, Tracy Danton was different, and he knew it. He knew because this would be the last time he saw her. She was almost out of time. He didn't know what happened to the people that were out of time, just that he never saw them again.

"Well, Brian?" Tracy said as she flicked her hair. "Aren't you gonna say something?" He hated his name. He hated how they said it like it was a disease. He hated how they treated him. But he couldn't bring himself to hate them, not truly. They weren't even worthy of the attention something like hate deserved. Because they didn't understand, and they never would.

The boy turned back to the girl that had addressed him, his eyes were cold as ice. Tracy flinched. She may have been a cruel person, but in all seriousness Brian Walker scared her. He scared everyone. Some kids shrunk into the walls when he walked by, others tried to hide it by bullying him.

"I have nothing to say to you," the boy said quietly. "Goodbye, Tracy Denton." As he turned away to walk down the hall again, his words echoed through the silence, and the more perceptive kids felt like those words had been a final goodbye. They felt like Tracy was going to die.

Because elementary kids are cruel, but Brian Walker was the cruelest of them all.

His dark eyes that seemed to know so much more than any of the others were cold, calculating and cruel. Too cold, too calculating and too cruel for a seven year old.

The bell rang and the children rushed inside for classes. No one thought about that little encounter anymore for the rest of the school day.

Brian was the last person in the classroom, he always was. But today he was actually rather happy about going home. Usually the other kids would continue to bully him on his way, but not today. Today his mom would pick him up, they'd go to the store and then walk home together.

To Brian, Regina Walker was the most amazing woman in the world. If there was one mistake she made it was naming her son after his dead father, because the name sucked. But despite that Brian loved his mom, more than anything else in the world. She was kind, beautiful, and caring, forgiving (a very important attribute if one wanted to get along with Brian), and helpful, polite, cheerful, and funny. Her eyes sparkled with joy wherever she went and no one could help liking her immediately.

But what Brian loved most about his mom was that she loved him in return. The boy stepped outside the school. He saw Tracy Denton at the edge of the street; she was almost out of time. On the other side of that very same street, stood his mom.

Brian's eyes widened. She had been fine this morning, lots and lots of time left, but now that time was almost gone, it was a few hours less than even Tracy, it was "Barely five minutes," Brian whispered.

The next few seconds felt like they were happening in slow motion. Brian took a step forward, his mom saw him and gave him one of those beautiful, beautiful smiles. Right then, the boy hated it, because she didn't know. No one ever did.

Then Tracy Denton ran onto the street, her arms outstretched towards her mother that had appeared next to Brian's mom. A car rounded the corner way above the speed limit. Tracy's mother didn't see it, but Brian's did. Regina surged forward in an attempt to push Tracy out of the way. The car horn honked loudly, the headlights flashed, the driver attempted to slow the car down, but it was too late.

Regina Walker and Tracy Denton were hit full on. They tumbled to the ground. Someone screamed. It was a loud, piercing scream that sounded like it could shatter someone's ear drums and Brian thought it was the most horrible scream in the entire world. Then he realized he was the one that was screaming. That thought only made it more horrible.

Teachers came rushing outside, flowing around Brian like a river around a rock. And just like a rock, he didn't move. The boy's eyes stayed fixed on his mother and Tracy as someone called an ambulance.

Sirens were blaring all around them as it arrived. The paramedics jumped out. That was the moment Brian collapsed.

Regina Walker died on site, shortly before the ambulance arrived. She had taken the brunt of it to save a girl that bullied her son on a daily basis.

Tracy Denton on the other hand was taken to the ER, but succumbed to her injuries a few hours later.

Brian Walker was taken back into the school, and they wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, the boy was in shock.

A few weeks later he was brought to England, to a place called Wammy's House for Extraordinarily Gifted Children. Brian Walker never fully recovered, but at least he found out what happened to people when their time was up.

And of course, he lost that horrid name.

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**R&R plz!**

**AN: Please read!** This is the part where I usually announce who's up next, but since I haven't gotten any **requests, chapter five** is just going to be Linda, unless any of you ask for someone else (I'm not doing L, though, sorry)


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